


Perfect Strangers

by CeruleanMisha



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breastfeeding, F/M, Single Parents, Wet Nurse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16015208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeruleanMisha/pseuds/CeruleanMisha
Summary: April Ludgate is a single mother, and her heart breaks for her neighbor, Andy Dwyer, when she sees him struggling to bottle feed his infant daughter. Andy has (temporarily) moved in with April.Mature themes.I am taking prompt requests in comments.Click here for to see my prompt table.Request one or two or five or ten, as many as you want! Feel free to request a specific situation/time frame/verse that I write. Most will be April/Andy, but other P&R characters, as well as OC, and my headcanon for future children may appear.





	1. Andy's Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Prompt: Crying Child)

**Author's Note:**

> This scenario came to me in a dream during an afternoon nap while it was storming. I scribbled as many details as I could remember when I woke and...yeah. Here it is.

She saw him watching her. It made her feel a little weird, especially since he looked away whenever she tried to meet his eyes. She knew people’s views on breastfeeding in public varied wildly, from those who would commend to those who would condemn. The fact he was feeding an infant roughly the same age as hers put him somewhere closer to the acceptance side of things.

More like he was attempting to feed the infant, she thought. Once she actually paid attention, she realised he was struggling. As if on cue, the child in his arms let loose with an eardrum shattering screech that made everyone in the area jump. Her own child was startled off her breast and responded with a wail of her own.

“Shhhh,” she cooed. She shifted, fully exposing herself as she repositioned her daughter, pinching and rolling her nipple to encourage the latch. A few feet away, the man with the fussy child gave an exasperated sigh and leaned back, bottle in his hand, his body stiff with frustration, worry, and defeat.

She had seen him around the complex. She didn't know his name, but she was pretty sure he was a musician. And he lived with the nurse, Ann. Now that she realised who he was, she realised she hadn't seen Ann out with the baby for a few days. She'd assumed she'd gone back to work.

She looked down at her own child, her tiny fists pushing against her, refusing to relatch. She ran a finger over the baby’s cheek and found herself wondering what that guy’s story was. He obviously had no idea how to manage the baby by himself. He'd probably never been around kids. What was Ann thinking, leaving the baby with him?

It was clear Ainsley wasn't going to continue feeding, leaving April with her breast swollen. She didn't have her pump with her, but there was nothing to be done about it. Even if the other baby's crying was causing her to leak. That was why she had a padded bra. She put Ainsley in her carrier and put her bra and shirt back to rights. She didn't have anywhere to be, or really anywhere to go but home, but she realised she couldn't do that. Not without at least offering to help. The poor guy was obviously at a loss, and the baby in his arms was beet red from fussing and screaming and fighting. He looked like he wanted to cry too, and she honestly wasn't sure he wasn't going to start if she spoke to him. 

"Hey." She moved from where she'd been sitting to sit next to him. He brought his head up to look at her. His eyes were a bright, almost emerald green up close. And shining with the promise of tears. She really hoped he didn't start crying, because how awkward would that be? "I take it you haven't had to feed her much before now?"

He shook his head. "No. Her mom..." He raised the hand that wasn't entirely supporting the child he held, but let it fall as his voice trailed off. "She was, you know. Feeding her." His hand moved again, gesturing toward her breast. "But she's..." He shook his head. Whatever had happened to the baby's mother, it was hard for him to say. Which kind of almost definitely ruled out the possibility that she had simply gone back to work.

"Has she ever taken a bottle before?"

"She drank a little last night. But I had some left from her mom. It's all gone now. This is formula. And I don't think she likes it." 

April nodded. She felt for him. She really did. A million scenarios ran through her head, and they all came down to one thing. The baby's mother was gone, out of the picture. Maybe she left, or maybe she died. April had no way of knowing without asking, and she didn't feel that was appropriate. "Would you like me to try?"

He sucked in a breath. "I...yes. Please." 

He shifted, holding the baby out so she could take her. "Hey, sweetheart," April said softly. The baby nuzzled against her, and it was obvious to April that she was rooting around for a breast. April took the bottle from the guy, she assumed he was the father, but she was also aware he might not be. Stranger things had happened. He could be an uncle, or a friend, or hell, even though he didn't look terribly old he could be the grandfather. It was possible.

"Here you go, honey," she cooed, and pushed the nipple to get a little milk to pool at the tip so she could rub it on the baby's lips and hopefully get her to take it. She seemed to go for it, but then turned her face away, grunting in frustration. "It's okay, darling. I know it's not what you're used to, but it's the best we can do." Even though her own breasts were leaking in response to the baby's fussing. 

She tried again, with the same results. "Okay. This is going to sound crazy," April said. She looked at him, and his big green eyes. She really just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be all right. "I don't even know your name. But here's the thing. Ainsley didn't finish and I've got more than enough anyway. I can feed her."

"You can do that? I mean, it's..." He frowned, struggling to find the words.

She held the bottle out to him and he took it, sliding it into the diaper bag at his feet. "It's pretty unusual, I think. But yeah. I mean, I don't see why not. They gave me information when I had her about an organisation that takes excess breast milk for infants in need. And I think this one is definitely in need. What's her name, by the way? I'm April."

"Lyric. And I'm Andy," he told her. He tried not to watch as she prepared to take Lyric to her breast, but he was unable to look away. It wasn't even that he'd never seen a woman breastfeed before. But he was mesmerized by it, and by her. She offered her nipple and Lyric latched on without hesitation.

The sudden silence was almost deafening. April stroked the baby's face with the knuckle of her index finger. "There you are, sweet girl. I know you're hungry. It's all right. Take as much as you need." It was kind of surreal to have someone else's infant at her breast, but she was happy to help. 

She looked up at Andy. "Hey. It's gonna be okay."

He shook his head. "Is it, though? I mean, I really appreciate what you're doing. But what about when she's hungry again in a few hours and all I have is a bottle."

April shifted a little and reached her hand out to touch Andy's leg. It was a valid question and a legit concern. She wasn't sure how to answer, without getting a little more information. She looked into his eyes, and tried to hold his gaze. "Andy. Where's her mother? What happened to Ann? It is Ann, right? I talked to her a few times, when we were both pregnant. And I saw her with the baby a few weeks ago, but I haven't seen her lately."

"She was in a car accident a few days ago," Andy said. He looked down, unable to maintain eye contact. "She...she didn't make it." 

"Oh, Andy. I'm so sorry." Was that better or worse than if she'd just walked away like Ainsley's father had done? One morning he left the apartment, and never came home. He sent a text telling her he was leaving town, and don't bother trying to find him, he was trashing the phone before she could even read the message. And that was that. "Listen. the girls are close in age. I think Lyric was born maybe two weeks after Ainsley. And we live in the same block of apartments, so, I mean. I can help out. They say the more you feed, the more milk you produce, so I can feed them both. If, I mean, is that something you'd want to do? I know you don't know me and I don't know you, but..." April looked down at the child suckling from her breast.

Yeah, this was a completely unusual situation. But it felt right. She had to help this guy and this innocent baby whose world had been turned upside down before she was even three months old. It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Andy's either. He seemed like a good guy. And April sincerely wanted to help him and his little girl. 

"I...you'd do that?" The shine of promised tears glistened in his eyes again.

"I mean, yeah. Why force her to take a bottle when she doesn't have to?" Part of her wondered what she was doing, but part of her knew she couldn't just walk away. Lyric and Andy were both innocent victims of a situation that was beyond their control. She had the means to help them, so she was going to help them. 

Andy's gaze traveled down to Ainsley sleeping in her carrier seat. "She still wakes up to eat in the middle of the night. I can't ask you to come over and feed her at 3am." 

"I have a two bedroom unit. Why don't you two come stay with me? I can move Ainsley into my room and you two can have her room. There's a twin bed in there, and we'll figure out everything else." She knew it was a risky offer. For all she knew, he'd killed Lyric's mother and lied about the car accident. But he seemed so pure, so genuine, so honestly distraught that she was willing tot ake the risk. 

"I can't..."

April leaned forward just a little and reached for his hand. His daughter was still nursing at her breast, her face still splotchy from her crying earlier, but slowly returning to normal. "Would you do it for your daughter?"

She saw the corners of his mouth twitch. And a tear finally fell. His voice, when he spoke, even though he only said one word, was low and lilted with emotion. "Yes." 

"That settles it then. When she's done here, we'll go to your place and get what you need for tonight. We'll worry about the rest tomorrow."

Andy nodded. "I don't know how I can ever thank you for this."

Her first thought was that he could thank her by not being a serial killer or something. but she just smiled and squeezed his hand. "Just let me help you. And maybe pay half the grocery and stuff. That's all I really need." 

"I can do that," Andy said. He'd even offer to pay half the rent. It would be tight, unless he gave up his apartment, but it was way too early to think about that.


	2. Endless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy can't sleep. April can't sleep. Babies need to be fed.

Andy was almost too big for the single bed that was in Ainsley's nursery, but he'd make it work. He kind of had to make it work. The only other option was to sleep on the floor, and his bones and joints couldn't handle that. He wasn't sure how much better the bed was going to be, but it was the best he could do for the time being.

He lay on his back, one arm bent up and under his head, the other folded across his chest. He was grateful the room had a ceiling fan, but even running it on high speed didn't keep him from sweating. He'd taken his shirt off, opting to sleep in his boxers, with only the thin sheet draped over himself. He eventually kicked the sheet away, and it ended up bunched up at his feet. Or maybe he'd kicked it off the bed by now. 

He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep. He tended to be grumpy when he didn't get enough sleep, and he didn't want to be grumpy with April. She had opened her home to him, and she was doing an amazing thing for his daughter. He felt like he had to be on his best behavior with her. She didn't need to be exposed to his weird little quirks or his grumpiness. This wasn't an ideal situation for him, but she was the one who was really inconvenienced. She had another infant to feed, and she had to deal with Andy too. 

Thoughts like that were going to keep him up half the night. Maybe all night. Then he'd really be grumpy when morning came. It was an endless cycle, and he had no idea how to make it stop. Whenever he got caught up in a loop like this, Ann would have him get out his guitar and sing. He couldn't exactly do that now, after midnight, in someone else's home, and with Lyric sleeping in a playpen right beside him. 

He didn't like putting her in a playpen, but until he could take her crib apart and bring it over and put it back together, it would have to work. He'd insisted April take Ainsley's crib into her room. It was bad enough he'd kicked Ainsley out of her nursery, he wasn't going to take her bed from her too. 

He sighed and moved his arm out from under his head. He folded his hands together against his chest, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to stay that way for long. Skin against skin made him aware of how sticky he felt from the sweat. If he were in his own apartment, he'd get up and take a shower. Maybe that would help him sleep. But he felt like he couldn't do that now, because it would disturb April, and he wanted to be as invisible and unintrusive as he could be while he was staying with her. 

With a weary sigh, Andy turned onto his side. The bed creaked and groaned under his weight. He held his breath for a moment, releasing it only when he was sure the bed wasn't going to collapse under him. Laying on his side facing the playpen, he could see the vague outline of his baby girl. She looked like a blob, or a black void in the bottom of the playpen, but even in darkness, even when he couldn't see her, he knew she was the most beautiful creature who ever lived, and he would do anything for her. Even lay awake in a strange bed in a strange apartment with a woman he didn't know. 

Much to his surprise, he was startled awake when Lyric started to cry. He fumbled for his phone, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't in his own bed, and that his phone wasn't on a table by the bed because there was no table by the bed. He found it on the floor, and focused in on the clock. It was just past three. 

"Shhhh, baby. Daddy's here." He turned his phone on to give himself a little bit of light so he could see to pick Lyric up. He sat in the rocking chair and held her to his chest. She settled against him for a moment, but when she realised there was no breast for her to latch on to, she let out an ear piercing scream.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was just enough light outside her window to act as a nightlight. She couldn't read by it, couldn't see if there was anything on the floor. But she could see her hand in front of her face, and she could see her daughter's outline in the crib that was set up along the far wall. The baby didn't seem to be affected by the fact her crib was now in April's room. She was too little to understand what was happening, and that there were strangers in the apartment.

Part of April wondered what the hell she was thinking. She didn't know Andy. She hadn't really known Ann. She hadn't even known if his story about Ann's accident was true. She felt like she might have heard about it around the complex if it was. But she also knew that she might not have heard anything. it wasn't like she hung out with anyone in the neighborhood. She tended to keep to herself. 

She'd done a quick news search on her phone, and had found Ann's obituary online. The blurb didn't give any details about how she'd died, but April didn't have any reason to question what Andy said. As far as she could tell, he was just a poor schmuck of a guy who was suddenly left to raise a two month old child by himself. April could relate to that, though she'd been left with the prospect of raising her child alone before Ainsley was even born.

She sighed and turned over, onto her side and facing the away from the crib. Andy and Lyric were on the other side of the wall, and she couldn't help but wonder what they were doing. Hopefully they were both sleeping, but she wasn't, and she had a feeling Andy wasn't. His entire world had been turned upside down. Honestly, she was amazed he was even functional, but she supposed he had to be, for his daughter's sake. 

The scene from earlier, when she'd been struggling to feed the baby ran through her head. Had she made a mistake reaching out to him? She'd fed his child, a baby she didn't even know, from her breast. She knew she wasn't taking milk away from her own child, her body would produce more than enough to feed both the girls. That wasn't the point. The point was, she wasn't Lyric's mother and had no obligation to feed her.

She felt like she didn't have any other choice, though, when it came down to it. Not because of anything Andy said or did. Because she was a woman, and a mother, and she felt deeply for the child who had lost her mother. And maybe she felt deeply for the guy who lost his partner and the mother of his child. Either way, it amounted to the same thing. She'd seen him struggling, she'd seen the baby suffering, and she'd reached out. 

And now the two of them were sleeping in Ainsley's nursery and she hoped they were comfortable enough, and she hoped she hadn't made a huge mistake. He could still turn out to be a serial killer or something. She didn't think so, but she was aware it was at least possible. And then what? She'd let him into her home, where her helpess infant daughter slept.

She was jolted awake when Ainsley started fussing. She blinked rapidly, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Why did it sound like Ainsley was right there in the room with her? Oh right. Because she was. April forced herself out of bed. She stumped into the bathroom to relieve herself and wash her hands before she picked Ainsley up. She didn't have a rocking chair in her room, so she went out to the living room to sit in her recliner. 

Ainsley latched eagerly, and April gave a little sigh of relief and contentment as her milk began to flow. She loved feeding her daughter in the dark. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She couldn't see anyway, and there were no visual distractions to take her attention away from this very solid, very real connection with her child. 

It was hard to remember now those first few attempts, and how difficult it had been at first. She was glad she'd pushed through and figured it out. She'd never known anything else in her life that compared to the bond she felt with Ainsley at her breast. 

She dozed off, only to be jolted awake again sometime later when Lyric screeched. Ainsley trembled in response to the scream, but it didn't wake her. April took her back to the bedroom, back to her crib, before going to knock on the door. "Andy? Are you decent?" It seemed polite to ask.

"Yeah. You can come in." 

She opened the door slowly because somehow it felt like an intimate gesture to go into the room where he sat with his irritable, hungry, fussing baby. He got to his feet as she came in, and she could see the outline of Lyric's tiny balled up fist shaking in the air as he shifted the infant in his arms. April crossed the space between them and gently took Lyric from her father. Relieved of the child, Andy crossed his arms over his chest, his hands tucked under his armpits.

April sat down in the rocker and exposed her breast to the infant. Lyric found the nipple and latched on before April had a chance to present it to her. "That's it, baby girl," she cooed in a soft, sing-songy voice. The baby gurgled, and April smiled. After a moment, she looked over at Andy. "Have you slept at all?" she asked him.

"A little, I guess, since she woke me up." He'd sat down on the bed, and sat on the edge with his feet planted on the floor. She couldn't see details in the dark, but he looked like a giant sitting on that little bed. "It doesn't matter. I'd suffer any discomfort for her." 

April smiled. His words put her serial killer fears to rest because they rang true. He was a good man, a good father. "I know the feeling," she said softly. She brought her hand around to run her finger over the curve of Lyric's cheek. She kind of already felt like she'd do anything for the tiny innocent little girl in her arms. Maybe other people would question what she was doing, but she couldn't imagine doing anything else. Lyric and Andy needed her. And maybe, just maybe she needed them too.


	3. Just One Small Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April has just one small problem she needs to talk to Andy about.

The first few days were like a honeymoon period. Everything seemed great. Andy helped out around the apartment. He didn't cook, but he picked up take out and insisted on paying for it, as a sort of thank you for all that she was doing for him, and for Lyric. 

The two of them seemed to work well together, and April found herself growing more and more comfortable with Andy around with each passing day. He was a genuinely good guy, if a bit dense at times. Most of all, he put the needs of his daughter before himself, which was more than April could say for Ainsley's father. 

She hadn't even heard from him. He hadn't contacted her at all, not even to ask about the baby. Not that she would have answered. As far as she was concerned, he gave up his rights the day he walked out on her. And as much as she didn't believe in fate or coincidence, she thought maybe it was a case of things happening for a reason, because if that son of a bitch had stuck around, she wouldn't have been able to bring Andy and Lyric home. 

There was just one thing about Andy that grated on her nerves, and she knew she needed to say something to him because it was driving her crazy. The longer she let it go on, the more frustrated and annoyed she was starting to feel. 

"Hey, Andy?" She said one night when she was ready to go to bed. Both girls were already down, and she wanted to try to sleep for a while before they woke up to feed again. 

"Huh?" He glanced at her, half distracted by the cereal commercial on the TV. 

She reached for the remote and put the volume on mute to try and pull his attention to her instead of the screen. She wasn't sure how he was going to react, and she didn't want him to be distracted. "I really need you to start cleaning up after yourself." 

They'd had pizza for dinner. A paper plate, three napkins, and two beer bottles littered the table in front of him. Not to mention the candy wrappers, both on the plate and on the table around the plate. He had a bad habit of leaving that kind of trash behind. She didn't think it was an unreasonable request. Hopefully he wouldn't either.

His eyes scanned the mess in front of him. "Oh. Yeah. Sure." He nodded and scratched at his stubbled chin. He knew he'd been leaving his trash around, and that April must have been cleaning up after him, but he hadn't really thought about it. "I guess I'm just used to Ann..." 

He stopped himself mid-sentence and sighed. 

"I know you miss her and all, but I can't believe she'd clean up after you all the time." She didn't want to start a fight or bring memories to the surface, but she needed to confront this issue. it was literally the one legit complaint she had about him. 

"She did, though." He rolled his shoulders. "I mean, I didn't sit around and do nothing, but you know."

April shook her head. "No, I don't know." 

"Just, she did the dishes and stuff." 

There was a certain suggestion in his tone, and April didn't like it one bit. "What, like the dishes are the woman's job or something?" She felt defensive, because that was about as sexist as a guy could get. Or maybe it was because she'd never thought of Andy that way before. 

"No, I didn't mean it like that." 

"How did you mean it?"

He looked almost mortified. She really wasn't sure what to think now. She knew he was a good guy, he'd proven that time and again in the short time that she'd known him. He'd been staying with her about a week and a half. He'd been nothing but a gentleman the entire time. And a bit of a slob.

"I don't know. I just. I'm sorry, okay? I'll do better." 

She'd hit a nerve somehow. But he'd struck a nerve with her too. She supposed that was healthy in a relationship, though. Even if they were just friends. For now at least. She wondered what would happen when Lyric no longer needed to breastfeed. Would Andy move out, would April ever see them again? 

She hated to think of that. Every time she fed Lyric, she felt a bond with her. Maybe it wasn't as strong as the bond she felt with Ainsley, but it shouldn't be. Lyric wasn't her child. She was Andy's. But there was a bond there, and it was strong and real and permanent. If Andy left and took Lyric away, it would feel like losing a child because that's exactly what it would be for her. 

"Okay," she got to her feet. "That's all I'm asking," she said. She picked up the remote to hand it back to him. He took it, but instead of unmuting the sound, he turned the TV off. He set the remote down and started piling the trash up on the plate. "Andy, I didn't mean..."

"No, you made a good point, and I'm gonna show you I'm serious starting right now." 

She mashed her lips together and nodded. She couldn't really argue. She didn't want to discourage him in any way. If he wanted to clean up now, she'd let him. And if she appreciated the way his muscles flexed while he gathered the trash, well, who could blame her?

He might not be the most fit and muscular guy around, but that was okay with her. He was tall, and his weight was pretty well distributed. He had a bit of a pudgy midsection, but she didn't find that unattractive. He had a pretty face, she liked his beard, and his curls, and his eyes were a lovely shade of green. He wasn't the snazziest dresser, but she didn't mind that most of his shirts were from the band he used to front before Lyric was born.

He put a napkin on top of the candy wrappers on the plate, then put the beer bottles on top of the napkin to hold it all down in place. Moving a few steps toward the kitchen, he seemed to notice that April was still there. He frowned at her. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me?"

She could have told him she liked the view. She started to, but didn't get past the first syllable. The words just seemed to stick in her throat, and instead of trying to force them, she took a step forward and kissed him. The flimsy paper plate in his hand gave out and all the napkins, wrappers, and bottles clattered to the floor. He let go of the plate, letting it fall with everything else.

She took a step back, hands moving to his shoulders to put some distance between them. "I'm sorry, I..." 

His eyes moved over her face. She started to shake her head, but he moved that step forward to close the space between them, and his arms went around her as he leaned in to kiss her lips. Her hands dropped from his shoulders and slipped around his torso.

One of them made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a whimper. She wasn't even sure if it was her or him. It didn't matter, it was appropriate and accurate and she gave a soft sigh as her body practically melted against his. She could have named a hundred reasons why this was a bad idea, but she didn't have the will to protest. Not when it felt so good.

Not when it was something she'd been thinking about for a while. Almost from the first day he came home with her. He was staying with her for his daughter's sake, and that would always come first. both babies were the priority, absolutely. But that didn't mean the two of them didn't have wants and needs too. And they were both adults, there was no reason they couldn't find comfort in each other's arms.

Except his girlfriend, the mother of his child, had died just two weeks ago. He was still trying to process that. Two weeks wasn't much time at all. Two weeks meant he was looking for a rebound. And rebounds hardly ever worked out. And if she did this, if she let anything happen between them, she was effectively putting Lyric at risk. 

Which meant she had to put a stop to it. She had to make him stop before they ended up making out on the sofa. Damn it, why did it have to feel so good? She'd been alone for so long, and she kind of loved the way his big hands moved like feathers over her skin. She didn't want to push him away; she wanted to tumble to the couch with him and lose herself in his touch. 

"Andy." She managed to get one hand between them, her palm flat on his chest. "Andy. This isn't..." She felt him tense under her hand. He pulled his head back, bright eyes looking down at her. "We have to stop."

He looked down at the floor, and without saying a word, knelt down to start gathering up the trash onto the plate again. 

"Andy, I..."

"No, you're right. It's a bad idea." He didn't look up, but focused on his task. He lurched forward, moving around her legs to grab one of the bottles that had rolled away. He stood and quickly moved into the kitchen, throwing the trash away. 

"Andy..."

"Good night, April." he never once looked back, but slipped into the bedroom that had been Ainsley's nursery but was now his and Lyric's room. April sighed heavily and turned off the lights and went to her room. She knew she wouldn't sleep, not after that. How could she? 

Had she made a mistake? No. She knew she'd done the right thing. Sometimes the right thing hurt like a son of a bitch. She sighed and closed her eyes.


End file.
